12.27.2007
Mad Swirl and Auld Lang Syne
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?
What the hell is an "auld lang syne" anyway?
While we do understand that the New Years bubblies will just be settling down in your tummlies on 01.02.08 and the obnoxious noisemakers will still be echoing in your head, we say f-it! That’s right, we said “f-it”.
Take a few aspirins and step right up to Mad Swirl Open Mic Night as we whirl thru Absinthe Lounge every 1st Wednesday. Come and get you some more hair from the dog that bit you on New Years Eve.
Mad Swirl is calling all you mad (and hung-over) poets, musicians, actors, singers, performers and any other miscellaneous mad ones in the Dallas/Fort Worth area to come and strut-yo-stuff.
Come one. Come all. Come to participate. Come to appreciate. Come to support your fellow mad ones.
Swirve opens the mad festivities 'round 8:00. Johnny and Lisa O will wake the mic up 'round 8:30-ish and the mic closes when there's no one left standing.
For more information about Mad Swirl go to www.MadSwirl.com
For more info about Absinthe Lounge go to www.AbsintheLounge.net
For more information on other DFW open mics go to www.DFWOpenMics.com
And please, by all means, please feel free to forward this to any and all mad ones you know.
By the way, “auld lang syne” means “the good old days”.
P.S. Whether you make it this time or not, mark your brand-new calendars now...
01.02.08 · 02.06.08 · 03.05.08 · 04.02.08 · 05.07.08 · 06.04.08 · 07.02.08 · 08.06.08 · 09.03.08 · 10.01.08 · 11.05.08 · 12.03.08
12.25.2007
Mad Swirlin' Holiday Greetings to You
Ho Ho Ho-llo Mad,
...and all that other happily sappily sugary stuff to you and yours this holiday season!
And since t'is the swirling season for giving and sharing, for loving and caring, we here at Mad Swirl couldn't think of a better way to spend these chilly holy-day's then by caring to share the latest mad-happenings at MadSwirl.com with you and yours!
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On the 1st day of madness Mad Swirl gave to me...
...a brand new short story!
Welcome to Mad Swirl's Short Story library. We've all got a story to tell but some of us have an itch that we have to scratch and this is the place where the itchers go to scratch it. Here's a glimpse at our latest scratcher Joseph Goosey...
Someday I Will Be On the Lamb and Sorely Missed
I got out of my car. I sensed that it was about 82 degrees. Very unseasonable. I wished to just lay down on the sidewalk, perhaps an eagle would swoop down low and take me in as one of it's own. This was unlikely so I kept walking. I was out of the car now and on my feet so there really was not much else. I looked like an escapee from either some sort of work release program or a Northeastern writers conference because I was still wearing my cashmere sweater. Like I said, very unseasonable. In an attempt to minimize my visibility to passers-by I ducked into a coffee shop. The girl behind the counter looked as though she had the answers to some very important and philosophical questions...
Click here for more EVEN if you've been bad!
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On the 2nd day of madness Mad Swirl gave to me...
...some wild and ca-razy poetry!
We tried to wrap up all these poetic samplings in bows and ribbons but we just couldn't get the tape to stick! So instead we offer this online collection of poetry from the maddest poets from the maddest corners of the world and have showcased them in the Poetry Forum just for you. The Forum is always in flux, living and breathing, evolving and changing, swirling constantly...so please come and come often to view the latest submissions.
Be sure to check this poetry stocking for the interactive holiday collaboration between Merlin the Magical One and Mad Swirl. Smoke 'em if you got 'em and be sure you turn up the volume and shoo away the kiddos before you open "Twas the Night Before Tomorrow"..
If it's been a few months since you came 'round the Forum, it has got lots of new wonderfully mad words from some of the mad ones that color our world. Here's who you may or may not have read since our last meeting...
Roderick Richardson · Ra! Gabriel · Justin Hyde · Joseph Goosey · David Kowalczyk · Shellie Lobis · Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal · Johnny Olson · Glen Still · Moctezuma Johnson · W Alt Burns · Michael Lee Johnson · Sean Bowen · Nicole Lilly · Joseph Veronneau
Santa says tear here to open the poetic presents here...
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On the 3rd day of madness Mad Swirl gave to me...
...new work in the Mad Gal-ler-y!
Welcome to the Mad Gallery...this place where we hang by the chimney with care the many sides of art and mad cheer!
From the furthest reaches of this mad mad world we have gathered together and featured just a few of the most maddest painters, sculptors, photographers & illustrators that we could and swirled them all together here. Come by and visit the gallery and watch as it continues revolving round and round...
Currently, in the Mad Gallery Showcase we have hung the latest additions from Andrew David King and Lia Mildwater.
Behold the artistic presense presents here...
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Every 1st Wednesday Mad Swirl Gives to Me...
...Open Mic Festivities!
As 2008 begins it's mad unraveling, Mad Swirl will continue to swirl collective creative chaos and madness and at Absinthe Lounge on 1st Wednesdays Open Mic.
Come go mad with host Johnny O and the monthly Mad Swirling showing of beat-utifully mad poets, musicians, actors, singers and miscellaneous mad ones as we try to make 2008 one to remember!
Make your list and mark your calendars now...
01.02.08 · 02.06.08 · 03.05.08 · 04.02.08 · 05.07.08 · 06.04.08 · 07.02.08 · 08.06.08 · 09.03.08 · 10.01.08 · 11.05.08 · 12.03.08
Interested in performing? If you are a poet, musician, actor, singer and/or performer and live in the Dallas-Ft. Worth area then come-n-preach-it!
Come one. Come all. Come to participate. Come to appreciate. Come to support your fellow mad ones.
And please, by all means, FEEL FREE TO SPREAD THE MAD WORD!
Absinthe Lounge · 1409 S Lamar St · Dallas, 75215
Santa says click here for more information...
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Thanks to Santa for sharing his mad gifts with us, even though he knew all about our naughities and nicities in 2007!
We hope that 2008 brings more and more swirling madness from the mad ones that color our world.
See you in the web, on the page and up on the stage in 2008! And a Happy New Mad Swirling Year!
12.06.2007
Gone Crazy at Mad Swirl Open Mic Night • 12.05.07
Were you there on 12.05.07 as we went absolutely crazy on the Mad mic? Egads, the Swirling insanity was truly contagious!
Mad Swirl props to all of the usual unusual mad ones swirling wonderfully with some brand-spanking new mad ones who came to Absinthe Lounge this past 1st Wednesday for Mad Swirl Open Mic Night...
Johnny O (host)
Roderick Richardson (co-host)
Christian Zim
Paul Sexton
Opalina Salas
Carlos Salas
Josh Weir
Max Earl Blair
Mister Natural
Christopher
Chris Curiel
Lexie
Debra
Audacious
Clint
Peach
D'Anson
Poet Echo
Felix
Natasha Sweet
Kevin
Jennifer
Suzanne
Will
Huge mad props to Swirve's amazing trumpeter Chris, anachronistic vocalist Tamitha and mad man Gerard on skins for keeping us movin', groovin' and swirlin' all night long.
And, as always, thank you's to Absinthe Lounge owner Kevin, and the fine Lounge staffers for creating a swirling home for all of the mad participators and appreciators.
If you missed out on 12.05.07, don't fret. Join us in 2008 as the whole Mad Swirl of everything to come continues to swirl at Absinthe Lounge starting on 01.02.08.
For more information about Mad Swirl visit MadSwirl.com
11.20.2007
What's Going on in Mad Swirl’s Poetry Forum? (11.21.07)
We have collected poetry from the maddest poets from the maddest corners of this mad mad world and have showcased the latest Mad Ones in the Poetry Forum just for you. Currently the forum's gots lots of words from: David Kowalczyk, Ra! Gabriel, Joseph Goosey, Michael Lee Johnson, Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal & Ryan Dilbert...
My Dream Is Turquoise Marzipan
I am living at the San Diego Zoo
in a cage filled with crack vials,
banana peels, and expired bus passes.
I alternate covering my eyes,
my mouth, my ears,
while geriatric Republicans from
Tucson toss peanuts at me.
They are wise.
They feel the magic.
They know that I know
what I know, that I am
who I am because
I understand the serpent.
- david kowalczyk
Subway goes
he runs to catch the train
that doesn't stop
time is internal, spiraling now
a girl he's been practicing imagining
waits for him at some improbable stop
still unbuilt: a mere proposal on a drawing
board in some workroom
will blast through cheap restaurants and
Laundromats; will attract new
buildings and they will dine on Tofu
soup and cold, chewy noodles
- ra! gabriel
I TAKE A SEAT NEXT TO YOU
Are you hungry?
Do you want some lunch?
Will you be hungry on Saturday
around 7pm?
How was Corpus Cristi?
How is the aquarium?
Do you enjoy trumpets?
Trombones?
French horns?
French poetry?
French fiction?
Tennis? Bowling?
Do you savor dishes of fish
and rice?
Write the answer
to the aforementioned down
on a post-it, in H10 pencil,
and leave it for me
on the windshield of my
dirty dirty car.
- joseph goosey
Poem From My Grave
Don't bring the rosary beads
it's too damn late for doing repetitions.
Eucharist, I can handle the crackers and wine;
I love the Lord just like you.
Catholicism circles itself with rituals--
ground hogs and squirrels dancing with rosary beads,
naked in the sun and the night, eating the pearls
and feeling comfortable about it.
Rituals and rosary beads are indigestible
even the butterflies go coughing in the farmer's cornfields..
Cardinal George, Chicago, would choke on the damn things;
some of his priest would have thought it a gay orgasm or piece
remote found in scripture from Sodam & Gamora.
But my bones in ginger dust lie near a farm in DeKalb, Illinois
where sunset meshes corn with a yellow gold glow like rich teeth.
My tent is with friends there we said prayers privately like silent
moonlight. Farmers touch the face of God each morning after just
one cup of Folgers coffee Columbian blend,
or pancakes made with water and batter, sparse on the sugar.
Sometimes I would urinate on the yellow edge of flowers,
near the tent, late at night, before the hayride, speak
to the earth and birds like gods.
Never did I pull the rosary beads from my pocket.
It's too late, damn it, for rosary beads and repetitions.
- michael lee johnson
GIVE ME A CHANCE
It’s a mistake.
I’m not supposed
to be in here.
I didn’t do
anything wrong.
I forgot to
take my mind pills.
Without them I
get so confused.
I’m better now.
You can see that.
Why can’t I be
let go? I could
be more careful.
Give me a chance.
Whatever I
did to that poor
homeless woman
I won’t ever
do again? I
only took her
cart. She fell all
by herself. At
least she didn’t
break her hip. I
never laid a
hand on her. I’m
going back to
the place she lives
and apologize.
I will bring her
coffee, donuts,
and some spare change.
- luis cuauhtemoc berriozabal
Two-faced motherfucker
I first saw her in Starbucks black,
slim, maroon boxes around her squinty eyes.
Her face was bared to me in installments
all the grains of sugar and dust
placed into the lines of my palm
I am a two-faced motherfucker
and there is no way she could have known that
The first face I showed her
was the sweet and loyal boyfriend
the babysitter
who stockpiled friends
The next face I gave her
in the bedroom
the door closed
the girlfriend forgotten
for a few sultry moments
I left without saying goodbye
When I returned I was older, more mature, more jaded
The first face I showed her was passionate,
one she could hold in her clammy hands
that she could use to wipe up spilled soda
that called her
that tried to prove that the past wasn't a fluke
The other face was turned away
turned inward
uncaring like I thought she was
she saw that one fading off into the distance
becoming a dot
I left without leaving
and no good-bye
We met again and kept our friendship a clothesless one
The face I showed her in the dark
was erect and dripped into her cupped hands
it was a face of fire
kept warm inside a blanket
The second face I didn't show
it was indifferent,
unsure of if it was smiling or cringing
it was a icy face, rotting from the inside
full of insensitive maggots
it is one that I hate
that I try to cut off at night
with sharpened tears
I don't want to leave
I don't want to say goodbye
But she's seen the second face
and recoiled
She doesn't love the first face
But wouldn't mind being warmed by its flickering light
The other one bites into her back
and is only sorry
when it is too late
- ryan dilbert
Remember, this page is in flux, living and breathing, evolving and changing constantly...so please come and come often for the latest submissions.
Click here to visit the Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum. If you would like to submit poetry for the forum please see our submissions page located here.
11.11.2007
war, what is it good for?
view "fighting" here
11.05.2007
Celebrate MadSwirlOpenMicNight's 3rd Birthday on 11/07.07!
One and a Two...
Happy Birthday to MadSwirlOpenMicNight...
Happy Birthday to MadSwirlOpenMicNight...
Happy 3rd Birthday dear MadSwirlOpenMicNight...
Wow, three whole years. We remember it like it was just yesterday. The SpongeBob SquarePants movie was beating Polar Express at the box office that year. Also that year Usher, Norah Jones and Kenny Chesney were topping the crap charts. President-wanna-be Bush had just stole another election from under our noses and Mad Swirl was invited to host an open mic at the brand new Absinthe Lounge. Our first ad was posted in Mad Swirl's Issue IV:
"We heard there was going to be an OPEN MIC night at Absinthe Lounge, located in the South Side on Lamar Lofts.
They asked us here at Mad Swirl if we'd like to participate. Participate? OPEN MIC?! We don't know anything about electronics, let alone microphones!
So we're calling all poets, musicians, actors, singers, performers and any other folks (circus freaks & Tenacious D rip-offs always welcome) in the local Dallas-Ft. Worth area to help us open this mic up. Come to perform, come to appreciate, come to support your local artists.
For more information go to www.madswirl.com
Learn more about Absinthe Lounge at www.absinthelounge.net
Come by and help us figure out this whole open mic business."
And you did.
Come by on November 7 to celebrate our creative love-child's special day!
Our beloved Swirve will open up this poetic birthday bash 'round 8:00. Johnny O (celebrating his 37th anniversary on Earth) and guest hosts Lisa Ohhh and Chris Zimmerly will be waking the mic up 'round 8:30-ish. The mic closes when the last candle flickers out.
And please, by all means, FEEL FREE TO SPREAD THE MAD WORD! Forward this to any and all Mad Ones you know.
Happy 3rd Birthday to yooouuu! (and many mooore!)
10.21.2007
MAD News from the Eye of the Swirl
Mad Swirl greetings to YOU,
The MAD Swirl God has moved ME to share with YOU this powerful MAD MESSAGE.
As I was catnapping early in the WEE hours of the afternoon, I was awakened by a strange & POWERFUL sense. I felt shaking in my Bones, Dear brethren, & KNEW deep within MY heart & soul that this was the ONE, the only, the MAD Swirl God stirring me from SLUMBER. As I awoke, I SLID to my knees in a humble & receptive prayer....
"Yes, MAD Swirl" I whispered, wiping sleep from mine MAD eyes.
"My child," The Swirl spoke. "You have done MAD things in my name. You printed MAD Zines. You WOVEN a MAD web in the Wide World of the Web. You have Swirled the MADness WHEREever you can. It is time for more MAD work."
"Just tell me MAD Swirl, What will you have me to do?" I pleaded.
"My child," Lord Swirl spoketh. "You must spread the MADNESS to the MASSES. You must beseech ALL the MAD ONES and the 'AWWW'-ers to open their WEB browsers once more. This time, ye shall tell them to give of their eyes and ears and mouse CLICKS to the MANY MAD poems, paintings, stories, photos and OFFER their sacrificial LOVE offerings to the ministry of the MAD Swirl"
So Brothers and Sisters, I ask you this DAY, I mean Lord Swirl asks you this day, to FALL on your knees and Listen to the dear Lord Swirl and VISIT MAD Swirl dot com!...and Whatever Lord Swirl TELLS you, you mustn't question. Do not, I repeat, do not let the LYING DEVIL try to tell you otherwise. Lord
Swirl is VERY serious about this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Readeth thy MAD Words...and BE Saved!
Welcome to Mad Swirl's Short Story Library. We've all got a story to tell but some of us have an itch that we have to scratch and this is the place where the itchers go to scratcheth.
Here's a glimpse at one of our latest additions by Stephanie Timko...
"Island"
The word was 'island'.
I think the book was about butterflies. It stunned me, as I hovered over the word, not quite certain what it was. 'I. 'S'. I'd never seen anything like it. 'I' and 's' together were 'is'. That was easy. But what was that 'laaaaaaa' thing tacked onto the end? There was an ice cream shop downtown named Isley's.
Isley's had an 'I' and an 'S' in it but, that was the extent of my ability to
associate the word.
Readeth the resteth hereth...
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Speaketh with Tongues on FIRE...inside MAD Swirl's Poetry Forum!
We have collected poetry from the maddest poets from the maddest corners of the world and have showcased them in the Forum just for you. The Forum is always in flux, living and breathing, evolving and changing, swirling constantly, so please come and come often for the latest submissions.
These past few months the Poetry Forum has gotten lots of wonderfully mad words from some of the mad ones that color our world. Here's who you may or may not have read since our last e-meeting...in no particular order:
Ra! Gabriel · Johnny Olson · Roderick Richardson · Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal · M M Harris · Gordon Hilgers · Justin Hyde · Misti Rainwater Lites · M H Clay · Zoe Alexandra · Nicole Lilly · Cabe Lindsay · Shawn Misener · Zachary C Bush · Ananda Selah Osel · Michael Lee Johnson · Drew Kalbach · Kenneth P Gurney · Richard Donnelly
Clicketh HERE to Read Their MAD Words
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See-eth with THINE Eyes the GLORY...of the MAD Gallery!
Welcome to the Mad Gallery...where we take the many sides of art and try our darndest to put them all in one big beautiful basket.
From the furthest reaches of this mad mad world we have gathered together and featured just a few of the most maddest painters, sculptors, photographers & illustrators that we could and swirled them all together in the Mad Gallery. Come by and visit the gallery and watch as it continues revolving round and round...
In the Mad Gallery Showcase we hang the latest additions to our Mad Gallery collection, Misti Rainwater-Lites. Misti came to us from the Poetry Forum side of the Swirl. We saw her artwork on her website, eBuLLieNCe PReSs and asked that she share her madness in the Mad Gallery. She said yes and we said "Yaay!"
Take a stroll thru Misti's MAD Gallery...
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Participateth at MAD Swirl Open MIC Night!
MAD Halleluiahs to all YOU Swirling Brothers and Sisters who have been coming to be SAVED in the EYE of the Swirl at MAD Swirl Open MIC. These past THREE years worth of 1st Wednesday Open MIC Nights at Absinthe Lounge have been BEATutiful!
MAD Swirl continues to Preach it to the Mic at Absinthe Lounge on the 1st Wednesday of each month. Join Johnny O and his Special Guest hosts Lisa OHHH and Zimm at Our next Gathering in the Name of MADness on 11:07:07!
Interested in Testifying? If you are a MAD poet, musician, actor, singer and/or performer and live in the Dallas-Ft. Worth area then come-n-preach-it!
Come Oneth. Come Alleth. Come to Participateth. Come to Appreciateth. Come to Supporteth your fellow MAD ones.
The mic opens up around 8:30 and closes when there's no one left standing.
And please, by all means, FEEL FREE TO SPREAD THE MAD WORD!
Absinthe Lounge · 1409 S Lamar St · Dallas, 75215
Lord Swirl says Clicketh HERE for MORE info
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Do YOU want to be SAVED? Then Visit MAD Swirl dot COM! The DEVIL is sly, and he will try to tell you LIES that you should not listen to. He might whisper in your ear "Don't believe this stuff! It's just a hoax to get you to Visit MAD Swirl." He might say "Don't be stupid. They are charlatans!" I say "Satan! I rebuke thee!!! Get thee Behind MAD Swirl, You Lying devil, you!!!
Halleluiahs.
Reverend Brother Elder Swirl the 7th
Reach Out and Touch MAD Swirl the electronic-mail kinda way...
crazy@madswirl.com
OR Visiteth us on the Wide World of the WWW Web at...
www.MADSwirl.com
Mad Swirl • 123 Mad Swirl Lane • Dallas • TX • 75206
10.04.2007
Thanks to the Mad Ones Who Stepped Up on 10.03.07
Mad Swirling love and thanks to those that made this last 1st Wednesday one to remember...
(in order of appearance)
Johnny O (host)
Joey Cloudy (co-host)
Jolee Cloudy
Roderick Richardson
Opalina Salas
Paul Sexton
Alexcie
Michael Clay
Christopher
Josh Weir
Max Blair
Desmene Statum
Ricardo
Kathryn Weir
John Kelley
Felix
Mad thanks to the Swirve trio, Chris, Tamitha and Gerard, for opening things up for us and keeping us movin' and groovin' til the wee hours of the night.
More mad thanks to Absinthe Lounge owner Kevin and the beautiful bartenders Kat and Shelley for keepin' us drunk and loose.
Join us again on 11.07.07 when again we dare ALL OF YOU mad poets, musicians, actors, singers, performers and all you miscellaneous mad ones in the Dallas-Ft. Worth area to come and strut yo' stuff. Come one, come all! Step right up and participate, appreciate, and support your local Mad Ones.
Mad Swirl Open Mic at Absinthe Lounge. It's THE place to be on the 1st Wednesday of the month!
For more info on stepping up to the mic go to...MadSwirl.com
For more information about Absinthe Lounge go to...AbsintheLounge.net
For more information about other open mics in the DFW area go to...DFWOpenMics.com
9.30.2007
The Mad Gallery Showcase showcases Misti-Rainwater Lites!
This is the place where we hang the latest additions to Mad Swirl's Mad Gallery collection...
Misti Rainwater-Lites came to us from the Poetry Forum side of the Swirl. We saw her artwork on her website, eBuLLieNCe PReSs and asked that she share her madness in the mad gallery. She said yes and we said "Yaay!" Take a stroll thru Misti's gallery here
A bit about Misti (as supplied by Misti): Misti Rainwater-Lites can't draw worth shit so she scribbles with Crayolas and calls it "abstract art" and takes pictures of toys and whatever else inspires her with her cell phone and calls it "still life photography." Misti also enjoys cutting and pasting and calling it "collage." Misti's baby boy is due on November 8th. She's naming him Jackson after Jackson Pollock, not her favorite artist but she loved Ed Harris's portrayal in "Pollock."
9.23.2007
What's Going on in Mad Swirl’s Poetry Forum? (09.23.07)
We have collected poetry from the maddest poets from the maddest corners of this mad mad world and have showcased the latest Mad Ones in the Poetry Forum just for you. Currently the forum's gots lots of words from: Kenneth P. Gurney, Nicole Lilly, Ananda Selah Osel, Zoe Alexandra & Justin Hyde...
More Real
Delphi wishes to translate
from muse to person,
from thought to flesh.
What novel character
wouldn’t want to write
their own lines, make
a racket, a stink, a life real
entering the field of time.
I’d like to show her
how to part the curtain
behind my eyes, but
that well worn path of light
flows in. So, somehow,
she needs to work her way
to my breath and traverse
the tumble of air
that goes both in and out.
Yes, that is it. Breath.
Like God placed into the ash
and dust. Mine into
ink and page.
- kenneth p. gurney
Retaste
A scream of woe,
That is what she called it.
Like the sound of a young girl
the first time her knees kiss the asphalt.
Innocence lost,
vanished or at least tarnished by time.
Trauma relived
with all survivors calling for control.
I set the tone
inviting it in with bleeding eyes.
Salted droplet sting my cheeks
Wide eyes with evaporated sparks
Recreation, experimentation...
I fear my desire, my taste for the darkness
- nicole lilly
Maps
regular
clean
men
with sterile
faces
are filling
universities
and
books
and
minds
who will in
turn
fill books
and minds
with the
sameness
and
as the masses
grow even more
massive
the ants continue to build up
their kingdom
the bees keep on collecting
honey
and
the wind still blows over
the ocean
and
with that in mind
maybe our
sameness
is not so bad
after all
- ananda selah osel
I Think it's the Broken Mirror(but it's really me)
And I can see that now
That you were right
When you said
Bad luck is what you make of it
Used to think that if I
Fell in love
I wouldn't be able to write anymore
Now I realize our fights
Could fill up public libraries
I am not getting any thinner
Wish for magic cures and panaceas
While you sleep and wish me
Out of your dreams
(and maybe your reality)
I know that I am going to die
The hard way
I never make anything easy
On myself
(or anyone else for that matter)
Asthmatic cough
After inhaling a box
Of cigarettes
Now I am totally broke
Without a backbone
Or a safe word
Or a safe place
Or a sure friend
Sure I have friends
But friends have their own
Insecurities and phone bills
And all my 1st grade apologies
Begin and end the same
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
I love you
and as I got older graduated to
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
I'll suck your dick
I'll lick the floor with my tongue
Nothing makes any sense
And my mother suggests I seek
Professional help
Which is not such a bad idea
But when I need a doctor
I have not a cent to my name
And I can see that now
That you were right
When you said
Bad luck is what you make of it
And I don't know how
To confront you
And I don't know
To which level you despise me
Excuse me,
on a scale of 1-10, how much
Do you hate me?
Sorry, 100 is not a valid answer.
Mostly, I fall short of your expectations
And fault myself
I could be childish and
Carve 666 into my wrist
And listen to Morrissey
And drown in bottles of Dubra
Or I could just write a poem about it
I suppose I'm too old for true angst
After 17, it becomes adult anxiety
I'm on my last cigarette and my last seven dollars
and I read somewhere that the number one source
of spousal arguments is financial
and I want to give up the ghost but I'm too scared
this ache feels like a hangnail in my mind.
- zoe alexandra
my contribution to that canon of nullity
early on
i promised myself
i'd never
write a poem
about not
being able
to write a
poem.
it seems
all the great
and even
spectacularly
forgettable
poets
have tried polishing
that turd
at least once.
all of them
struck me as
candy-ass
glorification of
defeat
but
not once
in twenty-nine years
have i
held myself
to my word
and
three days straight
there's been
no magic
beyond
seeing how high of a
meniscus
i can pee
into empty beer bottles
before they go
waterfall.
- justin hyde
Remember, this page is in flux, living and breathing, evolving and changing constantly...so please come and come often for the latest submissions.
Click here to visit the Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum. If you would like to submit poetry for the forum please see our submissions page located here.
9.11.2007
Check Out Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum...
Click here to visit the Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum. If you would like to submit poetry for the forum please see our submissions page located here.
Mother May I
barer of breasts
bearer of bad tidings
baby born to teenage mom
a year after her abortion
beauty pageant guinea pig
topless dancer at nineteen
here is the truth, mom
the truth that does not jibe with
your How Great Thou Art Old Rugged Cross mantra
you ask me to bring back my innocence
dust my purity off in time for my son’s birth
be the lover of God
the example to him
the conduit
the conductor
of the glory train
you have seen me fall and crawl and bawl for peace
you have seen me with messy hissing medusa hair
face bleeding from self-inflicted scratches
hiding in closets
defacing white walls with scented rainbow markers
bouncing off walls from prozac
writing poems about checking into a cheap motel room
and checking out
before life could really fuck me up the ass
loving men who didn’t love me back
wailing in the dark swigging from a bottle of vodka
puking up cheap wine with billie holiday on the stereo
and your favorite ceramic angel
broken into pink and gold shards at my feet
whore, mom
i am
wanting the most return
for the least effort
tired, mom
exhausted
but God is not my naptime
the angels are not lulling me to sleep
I’m not standing in that line
begging for blessings
holy, mom
you are
you have no idea
i sing hymns to you
memorize verses in your name
tell whatever special fucking invisible holy powerful thing
is listening
Her Life Will Not
Be My Life.
I Will Not Go
Down Like That.
Nailed To Anybody’s Cross.
A Waterfall Of A Woman.
Flowing Blood And Tears And Regret
Dying Some Asshole’s Martyr
While A Sad Dolly Parton Song Plays.
- misti rainwater-lites
& then I inhaled a lungful of sweet-cream when
Your left hand’s sandpaper tongue
Woke me curiously
From a dream
Where I did odd things
Like still-sitting behind a desk
In a bright room
[Like our Court of Moral Questioning]
In front of a man
With hair missing leaning
Over a dust-grey book pressing
His wrinkled finger against the middle split-
Open reciting lines blurred to me
To others listening surrounding me Darling
They were like nothing we have ever seen
I watched
As they were quick
Scribbling
Down
The sounds coming
Out of his mouth
An alarm-bell rang
The others dissolved
Before me
The mumbling man hunched
Over his desk waving
Me out from the room crying
- zachary c. bush
Today on the F-Train
Today on the F train
You said
Baby, you don't write anymore
You said
When I met you,
You were a writer
Now, you don't write
And I couldn't fault you there
Maybe sometimes you do see
Me better than I see myself
Inside my head there is always
A little whisper
A tiny slightly breathy whisper
Saying you're way too fucking fat
You talk way too much
You are such a pain in the ass
to everyone you know
and I know it's selfish to even feel that way
to take up that much space
even in my own head
space which could be used to build
linear equations, to conceal alien life,
to make a shelter for homeless animals
and yet I am always inside this small space
digging my heel into my own leg
stepping on the backs of my own shoes
tripping myself in the street
I want to tell you
I do write
I do
All the scribbles
All the cross outs
On scraps of paper
I do write my own name
Over and over in loopy cursive
And sometimes yours
But I loose track of time
And all of a sudden the bulk of it
Is gone.
- zoe alexandra
The Go-Go Swim Show
I'm so tired poolside, what now?
Don't you think so?
She flirts drippingly with no shame
No? Show me no.
She so flirts drippingly with no shame
Just me, not any so-and-so
Hysterically sexy girl
Ho CEO!
Hello hysterically sexy girl
Dodo. Let go--
Some girls pull the guava insides
From your ego. Let go.
Some girls pull the guava insides
she knows you know, even so
she's the CEO of the strip show
bro'. Flow aglow.
She's so the CEO of the strip show
so-so, sitting drinking green tea
in that short skirt, cup in front of the brie
she scowls, yet it's kind of sexy
No? Show me no!
She's so crazy, lazy
flirts drippingly with no shame
dumps on you all the blame
I'm so tired at the table, what now?
So slow we grow!
It's a go-go strip show, swim show
In bikini she's, whoa!
Even in Tagalog: gusto mo ho
I want no, let whims flow, a-
go-go swim show
- ra! gabriel
SOME OTHER FACE
Look at my face.
Does it look like
a face at all?
I don’t know who
I am. I don’t
know who I was.
Bring me photos.
Remind me of
the better days.
I don’t recall
if I ever
smiled at all.
Outside I hear
birds singing my
death song. I look
in the mirror
and I look in
my eyes. There is
no life there. I
sigh and hope with
all my might that
this could be a
dream, a nightmare,
some other face.
- luis cuauhtemoc berriozabal
Larry's Birthday Present
Both of them belonged, at first
to worlds of loneliness or worse
on separate mountains
on different islands
on distant oceans
without notions
of their other half's existence
Larry was one-of-a-kind
his mother was a platypus
his dad a hippopotamus
her labor was laborious
the birth, of course, victorious
Similarly squirrelly,
Lori was the hairy daughter
of a lion and an otter
nature hadn't ever seen
a comparably keen
and fiery
queenly being
These two future mates
shared two common traits:
their unprecedented strangeness
yes, foreign derangeness
as well as peculiar palpitation
of offbeat cardiovascular tempo
as a result of a unique heart condition
their primary organs of affection
were bursting with treasures
so immeasurable
so pleasurable
the overflow spilled onto others
unknowingly blessing these people
in their presences
with lovely loving lovejuice
Larry was hilarious
Lori was hilorious
Their paths were misaligned
until the day they intertwined
Larry was hilarious
Lori was hilorious
together they were merrious
the days they shared were glorious
Many planets wined and dined them
when their two fine minds combined, then
suns shined divinely
from their kiss-induced sparks
comets crossed asteroid belts
moons collided with moons
one colossal black hole swallowed them up
with an emotionally
explosionally
stellar gulp
the after taste of which
refreshed the universe
Space licked its lips and smiled.
- cabe lindsay
9.10.2007
MAD Halleluiahs to the MAD Ones of 09.05.07!!!
"My MAD Ones, Spread the MADNESS to the MASSES! Beseecheth ALL your fellow MAD ONES and the 'AWWW'-ers to open their hearts up to the Swirl. Ye shall give of your Poems, Songs, Stories, Monologues, Dance and all the sacrificial love offerings of applause and finger-snaps to the ministry of the MAD Swirl OPEN MIC"
And YOU came and Raised your Arms up to the Swirl!!!
And so Dear brothers and sisters, I COME to you on this day, fall on MINE knees and Start MAD Swirlin' Testifyin' to all ye MAD ONEs. MAD Halleluiahs to all of YOU who came on 09.05.07 and were saved in the EYE of the MAD Swirl...
Johnny O (host)
Paul Sexton
Opalina Salas
Roderick Richardson
Jolee Cloudy
Joey Cloudy
Desmene Statum
Josh Weir
Kathryn Weir
Sean Brandon
Michael Clay
Max Blair
Todd Buckley
Jimmy Owen
John Kelly
Poet Echo
Megan Harris
Andrew Marsteller
Grace
Talya
Lawrence
A very special Swirlin' AMEN to Swirve's Chris, Gerard and Tamitha
for keeping us movin' groovin' and testifyin' all night long!
And a HUGE Hallelujah! to Absinthe Lounge owner Kevin, manager Brian and bartenders Kat and Patrick.
Satan! I rebuke thee!!! Get thee Behind MAD Swirl, You Lying devil, you!!!
Reverend Brother Elder Swirl the 7th
MARK Your Calendars: Next MAD Swirl Testification on 10.03.07!!!
P.S.-eth: Pictures Cometh Soon!
For more information about Mad Swirl go to...MadSwirl.com
For more information about Absinthe Lounge go to...AbsintheLounge.net
For more information about other open mics in the DFW area go to...DFWOpenMics.com
9.02.2007
A MAD Swirl Testimony!!!
The MAD Swirl God has moved ME to share with YOU this powerful MAD MESSAGE. As I was sleeping early in the WEE hours of the night, I was awakened by a strange & POWERFUL sense. I felt shaking in my Bones, Dear brethren, & KNEW deep within MY heart & soul that this was the one, the only, the MAD Swirl God stirring me from SLUMBER. As I awoke, I SLID to my knees in a humble & receptive prayer:
"Yes, MAD Swirl" I whispered, wiping sleep from mine MAD eyes.
"My child," The Swirl spoke. "You have done MAD things in my name. You printed MAD Zines. You WOVEN a MAD web in the WWW. You have swirled the madness WHEREever you can. It is time for more MAD work."
"Just tell me MAD Swirl, What will you have me to do?" I said.
"My child," Lord Swirl spoke. "You must spread the MADNESS to the MASSES. You must beseech ALL the MAD ONES and the 'AWWW'-ers to open their hearts once more. This time, ye shall tell them to give of their poems, songs, stories, monologues, dance & their sacrificial love offerings of applause and finger-snaps to the ministry of the MAD Swirl OPEN MIC"
"MAD Swirl OPEN MIC Lord Swirl?"
"The trinity of MAD Swirl" God said. "The Lord Swirl, thy YOUR God has spoken."
So brothers and sisters, I ask you this day, to fall on your knees and Listen to the dear Lord Swirl would have you to do on this FIRST Wednesday...
"ALL ye MAD Poets, Musicians, Actors, Singers and/or Performers WHO Live in the Dallas-Ft. Worth area, come-YE-n-strut-yo-stuff.
Come Oneth. Come Alleth. Come to Participateth. Come to Appreciateth. Come to Supporteth your fellow MAD ONES.
The MIC Opens up AROUND 8:30 and CLOSES when I SAYETH So. GO FORTH to MADSwirl.COM for MORE Information."
Whatever Lord Swirl tells you, you mustn't question. Do not, I repeat, do not let the LYING DEVIL try to tell you otherwise. Lord Swirl is serious about this. If you love MAD Swirl, you will COME.
Hallelujah!
Reverend Brother Elder Swirl the 7th
8.22.2007
Just a Taste of the Mad Swirl Poetry Forum
Click here to visit the Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum. If you would like to submit poetry for the forum please see our submissions page located here.
YOUNG AGAIN
Sweetie, I had a hysterectomy.
I haven't been laid in six years.
Why don't you come over and make
an old woman feel young again?
I can't get pregnant anymore.
But if you still need protection
I have a gun in my drawer, which
I used to murder a lame lover.
But I'm certain I won't have to use
it on you. I have a good feeling
about you. I need to feel young
again. Sweetie, I'm here if you want.
- luis cuauhtemoc berriozabal
Sidewalk Silence
These cracks on the sidewalk
have a tale to be told
from many years ago
back in it's primmest day
when it was freshly laid and paved
so fresh and free of daily debris
that now stuffs it's clefts
so pristine, so untouched, so clean
only the crafters caring touch
laid hands upon skin
but the yellow tape was removed
and the posts were lifted
and so began it's slow deterioration
cold and heat days, snow and sleet days
not to mention the years of tears
that fell from the sky
puddles came and puddles dried
walked upon, used and abused
until finally a thin crack formed
and it's face broke off in places
and it became old and worn
more of an eye sore
then a concrete floor
crushed up butts and angry weeds
now fill in its cavernous seams
and it's wasting away
in unkempt decay
it's story untold
never the chance to say its say
cracked and silent til it's final days
- johnny olson
we wrote a life
we wrote this life
sometimes
from fragments of memory,
like shattered cancers,
susceptibility
to the daily enframing
of nothingness in sky sublime
as death above us,
woofing Eden thus, doggy
days that repeated,
meanings stolid
as this, Picts once lay peat
depicting history as misery
the stumbling structure
erected trembling as love;
and i am cold
gloveless in the boiling snow
that shows us the intermission
mittened like children
and how knows where the warmth goes
it goes where all the time goes
after the gods,
to entropy and absence
where they reflect their proud nonentity,
re-membering me this dismembering
to several singularities
and the drugs that loved us
enough
the junk cold in the gelid blood,
the good ice
and the meaningless meaning of life
- david mclean
Contrast
As I sit here tonight
contemplating
the differences between
life and death
the cold wraps it arms
around me
dissipating what little warmth
was left
into a fantasy
The whitewashed walls
of the church
across from the hall
against this black sky
define my boundaries
in an attempt
to keep me
from going back inside
my warmth reappearing
greeting me with open arms
Cigarette smoke defines this scene
that I have separated myself from
the party continues
the dance goes on
set to the throbbing bass
that is this generation's
heartbeat
reds and greens and blues
our electric artificial
rainbow
illuminating through dirty unwashed windows high above
the vacant lot
outside the hall
filled with the parishioners
who two hours ago sat in the simple church
now a stone-cold tomb
reflecting in the light
of the dance floor
across the way from me
sending a shard of the rainbow
through the stained glass
flashing across the altar
for half a second
now wading in darkness
as if the light was no more
than a temporary and tempting miracle
They had finished
with their solemnities
hours ago
and now dance
as close as they can to each other
drenched in their own
sweat
slowly becoming the sparkle
of the strobe
as parking lot lights
disintegrate into darkness instantly
giving up after so many years
of shining through
the blackness
on their own
for no one
nothing
Shaking the ground
the heartbeat speeds up
as if anxious
to be saved
delivered into the heaven
they had prayed for not so long ago
as the lights flick back on
not dead
just sleeping
And they all dance
not far from their
pledge to the right path
the church
dark and silent now
in awe of the shattering sounds
and flashing lights
that color its white walls in the blackness
the difference between holiness and licentiousness
between happiness and avarice
life and death
and suddenly the human need
for contrast
becomes so apparent
as the horizon too
fades into black
- andrew david king
in the waiting area while my oil is changed
any friendship
without christ
is stifling,
the hook-nosed woman
with a bible in her
lap
says to her
daughter.
god is mind-scramble
for tapioca
brains,
i think
to myself.
marriage too
for that
matter
hell
the mere act
of participating
in this diminishing
farce
on a daily basis
requires
self-lobotomy
and
pulling
the punch
on our murder
impulse day
after day
it becomes
very
clear
any play
short of suicide
is
fixed.
- justin hyde
Deconstructing Pettiness
When they knock you down
And step on you
Say those things that demean
And deflate
Do those things that undermine
Upset your self-confidence
Whack a hole in your sails
You think of them
With skin peeled back
To expose a puny brain
An undersized heart
Yeah, when they're exposed
Their duplicity and arrogance
Will be made plain to all
That's the way it should be
Make them see themselves
Maybe then they'll learn
Yeah
It never works that way
They step on us, from me to you
To higher planes
Near the top
Making their plans
That don't include us
Behind and forgotten
Aw, shit!
This is maudlin
And morose
I see the same thing
In my mirror sometimes
'Til I walk around a bit
In everyone else's shoes
Listen to their stories
Damn!
Even those assholes have their fears
- m. h. clay
8.02.2007
Swirlin' Thanks to the Neighborhood Mad Ones of 08.01.07
You know, we had a lot of fun last night. We should get together and do this again...(and a one and a two and a three)
Tomorrow (09.05.07), tomorrow (09.05.07), we'll open the mic tomorrow (09.05.07) with a poem or two.
One!
Two!
Tomorrow (09.05.07), tomorrow (09.05.07), we'll start the night tomorrow (09.05.07) with a swirl for you!
Til then we hope you're feeling mad-happy
Til then we hope your day is swirl-appy
Tomorrow (09.05.07), tomorrow (09.05.07) it soon will be tomorrow (09.05.07) and will be our night.
We like to say thank you to all you mad ones in the neighborhood who came on 08.01.07 and witnessed the madness in this Land-of-Better-Believe...
Johnny O (host)
Lisa Ohhh (co-host)
Cheyenne Gallion
Paul Sexton
Opalina Salas
Carlos Salas
Desmene Statum
Roderick Richardson
Jolee Cloudy
Joey Cloudy
Max Blair
Michael Clay
Mister Natural
Whiskey Jack (Stefan & Jimmy)
John Kelly
Apollo
Poet Echo
Tarnished Penny
Tia
Lyrical I
Crystal
Natasha Sweet
Ben
Christopher
Mac Man
Joshua Gabriel
Efrain
A very special neighborhood thanks to Gerard for setting the longest drum solo ever in Mad Swirl history.
An even more special neighborhood thanks to Absinthe Lounge...owner Kevin, manager Brian and bartenders Carolyn and Kathryn.
We can’t wait until next month... (and a one and a two and a three)
Till then we will say a very happy tomorrow to you and...
We'll be back, when the month is new, and we'll have more Swirl Madness for you, and you'll have words you'll want to share about. We will too.
See you all tomorrow (09.05.07).
Bye now!
7.25.2007
It's a Beautiful Night for Mad Swirl Open Mic
A beautiful night for some madness.
Will you be coming?
Could you be coming?...
It's the 1st Wednesday of this month,
A swirling day for some madness and fun.
Will you be coming?
Could you be coming?...
We've always wanted to have mad ones just like you.
We've always wanted to swirl in this open mic madness with you.
So...
Let's make the most of this 1st Wednesday.
And when we're together we might as well say
Will you be coming?
Could you be coming?
Won't you be at Mad Swirl?
Won't you please,
Won't you please?
Please won't you be at Mad Swirl?
On 08:01:07 we are inviting all the neighbors and poets, musicians, actors, singers and performers to come and strut your stuff. Come one, come all...to participate, to appreciate and to support the local DFW mad ones.
We open things up around 8:30 and the mic closes when there's no one left standing.
Where you ask? At Absinthe Lounge...1409 South Lamar...Dallas
For more information about Mad Swirl go to...MadSwirl.com
For more information about Absinthe Lounge go to...AbsintheLounge.net
7.23.2007
A Taste of Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum
is this a poem, then? - lisa olson
words piled
in a stack
pancakes of the mind,
scattered thoughts
in a neat pile.
sensibilities misdirected,
theme uncertain,
eyes on fire
with ideas, allergies.
hungering for food
or love.
coffee untouched
waiting for a
reasonable temp
before i kiss the mug.
is this a poem, then?
is this all that creativity
asks of me? that i
pile words,
arrange chaos
with clickety-clack
finger rhythms,
stack my thoughts
and call myself
a poet?
- lisa olson
view more of lisa's poetry at MadSwirl.com
You Asked Me Why - Johnny Olson
A fellow mad one
once asked me,
Why do you do it?
Sometimes it seems
the efforts you need
in planting this seed
leave you tired and dry.
I didn't answer him.
I knew the answer deep inside
but never put into words
the what's, when's, where's and why's.
This is what I should'a said:
I do it for the payoff.
I do it for this glorious jackpot
that fills me and spills me.
I do it for this giving and taking.
I do it for this showing and growing and flowing
to bounds unknowing
which keeps me going and going and going.
It came in one phrase
during a very fertile phase
read in the pages
of the Beatnik’s bible...
The whole mad swirl
of everything to come
began then.
...it was that recognition
in Jack’s premonition
that the moment was
electrified and synchronized.
In our one collective push
in the right direction
we knew that
the whole mad swirling world
can be changed forever
if only we opened that door,
if only we gave birth to this swirl.
Our creative love child
has never had a house
but has countless homes.
It is this lifeline
which connects us
back to our primal source
and leads us
back into the knowing arms
of our kindred spirits
and carries us
back to our original aboriginal tribe.
I just happened to be the last one
holding the opened door -
to the stage we’re sharing...
to the mic we’re opening...
to the page we’re writing...
to the web we’re weaving...
- and I must keep holding it
‘cos we’re not even close
to closin’ it yet.
It’s the torch
we must keep burning.
It’s the words
we must keep hearing.
It’s the cross
we must keep bearing.
It’s this crown
we must keep wearing.
It’s this moment
we must keep creating.
It’s this love
we must keep making.
We gotta keep moving
every mad day
and we gotta keep building
in every mad way
and we gotta keep preaching
all these things that we say
‘cos we gotta keep being
a piece of this something
because the whole mad swirl of everything
to come is now!
You asked me why do I do it?
I do what I do
because someone has to.
It’s my duty.
It’s my responsibility.
It’s my way of giving back.
Now let me ask you a question -
Wouldn’t you do it too,
if this was handed to you?
- johnny olson
view more of johnny's poetry at MadSwirl.com